The Secret Borgia
by tavingtonsbeauty
Summary: Gabrielle was born a duchess until she was bought and sold for the price of support of the Borgia in Rome. As Cesare's wife she was subjected to his cruel personality and so she ran away. Found living on the streets, sick, fighting of thugs, and pregnant, Niccolo Machiavelli became her measure that God did exist and she was not in hell. She works hard to help the group. Not slash.
1. Prologue – Letters

The Secret Borgia – Chapter 1 – Prologue – Letters

Dearest Claudia,

My ever faithful friend.

It has been long since I last wrote to you and I beg your forgiveness. Niccoló refused to allow me to write for fear the Borgia would find me. Times have been not so easy with Niccoló away with your own brother Ezio.

I do have wonderful news. I am carrying our second child and my husband as he returned to me was happy as was Ezio who always seems to have that soft smile when he is around women. Have you ever noticed? Perhaps not being his sister.

For now I must leave this as my only communication until we can rejoin you.

Much love and affection to your family, mother, and your courtesans who were always kind to me.

Your friend in hiding

Gabrielle Machiavelli


	2. The Wife of the Borgia

The Secret Borgia – Chapter 2 – The Wife of the Borgia

It was the Year of our Lord, 1491.

Gabrielle sat at her window looking out over the great sprawling city of Roma. She was not a native of the city-state and she had never felt so alone as she did now.

She had been married for two years to Cesare Borgia, the acknowledged son of one of the most powerful Cardinals in the church. Cesare himself was a brutal man. Though he at times was kind, it was few and far between. He often left her alone and isolated in the rooms of one of his great palaces where she would try to befriend the servants, but out of fear of her husband, they would remain distant.

She had no friends and fewer people she trusted. Alone and unloved she had grown almost withdrawn. She looked down at the people in the distant streets and wondered how it would be to be free and to buy her own bread.

Her hand dropped to her swollen belly. She was pregnant. She in part hated this child. Not because of the baby. The baby was innocent, but pregnant she was chained to the castle. Cesare had forbidden her to ride and do anything other than go onto the terrace.

She felt the baby move and closed her eyes. This child was her husband's and she hated him. Cesare thankfully did not come to her bed often. He was too busy with his many whores including his own sister which left a bad taste in the girl's mouth, but so much the better, let that woman suffer his often violent themes on the sex act. She had almost grown to hate that as well. Perhaps not hate, but dread it when her husband came to her. He was often better when he was drunk. He would mount her, smelling of wine or beer and rut until he either climaxed or he dropped off. Either way he would sleep in short order and leave her in relative peace. Sober he liked to choke her or hold her down as he violated her in ways that were cruel and inhuman.

She had been bought and sold to the man like a sheep. A young, thin hipped sheep who could give him heirs and had lined his pockets with her father's French gold. She was this man's plaything to do as he willed, when he willed. She could not speak out against him. He was a Cardinal's son and her body was for bearing children. Now helpless to his whims she had started planning her means of escape.

What if she became one of the people?

She sighed as night fell. She ate her dinner within her room. It had been common place. She only ate with her in-laws for state occasions since her presence disturbed Cesare's sister and mother. She was regarded as a whore when in fact it was the pair of them who actually were.

She was totally an outsider and so she always felt unwelcome.

The door opened and her husband stepped in. Part of her cringed as she looked at him unsure if he was sober or drunk, but his presence meant only one thing. He had come to have his rights to her body. Under the blanket of marriage there was no such thing as rape, but it was exactly that. He forced himself on her when he wished and she could try to fight, but as she had learned, it only made him more aggressive and her hurts took longer to heal.

"There you are, you little Spanish harlot."

"My lord?" She asked.

"Make yourself useful and suck my cock or at least be naked so I can see that lovely body of yours."

She swallowed. No one in Spain or France had spoken to her like that. It was degrading and she wondered how whores tolerated it. Money had to be the only thing that made it so they could stand the insults.

Shivering she rose to her feet and let her dress fall to the floor revealing her body. It was not slim and lithe as she had been since her middle now swelled with his child. She secretly prayed for a boy. That way with an heir perhaps he would leave her alone and bed his whores instead.

"Ahhh there you are." He said. His face was once handsome and she had seen this on her wedding day, but his dark face was now a mask of cruelty. She loathed seeing it, even when he was smiling as he was now.

He stepped to her and touched her swollen belly. "Poor Gabrielle, alone and carrying my child. Did you think I would forsake you?"

She looked down and he lifted his hand and slapped her hard across the face. "Answer me, you useless bitch."

"I…" She could not speak as her hand went to her face. Her lip was bleeding.

He turned her around and bent her over a table. He was still dressed and she whimpered as he released himself and pressed her painfully down on it as he entered her. He looked at her slim back that had bones showing and bent and bit hard on a shoulder as he moved deep and harshly in her.

She cried out in pain as he roughly held her hips and threw his weight behind his thrusts. She cried out as the baby moved, protesting the position as much as its mother. She closed her eyes and prayed it would be over soon. It hurt as all her times with her cruel master of a husband had.

In only a few minutes it was over and he lifted himself. "I am leaving for Florence, my pet. Try not to miss me." He said looking at her as she pained and clung to the table for support.

He left her then and she dropped to the floor in tears. The maid found her there some hours later, pale, rocking back and forth, bleeding, and holding herself. The maid helped her to a warm bath and it seemed to ease the girl, though she said nothing.

Morning found her in her bed, curled around her belly. She rose, painfully, her loins hurt, but she dressed. She had stolen a maid's dress and found a basket of laundry. She had hidden them. Then she put her hair in a simple braid and took a breath. She had some money and she put it in a purse under her clothing.

She made her way onto the grounds and slipped out the gate as she held the basket. She took a breath and steadied herself. No one even noticed her in this clothing. No one spoke to her. She was anonymous. She did not look up at the guards.

Head down she walked out the gate and into freedom.


	3. Living on the Streets

The Secret Borgia – Chapter 3 – Living on the Streets

Gabrielle lived two months on the streets well enough.

It was warm out and her body was swelling with her coming child. The church gave her food and she as able to rent a small room in the middle of town. Though it was a grade above the slums, it was home and she was comfortable. That said she wondered how she would fair when the weather turned with the drafty walls, thin blankets, and thin door.

The child coming was another matter entirely. The nuns had insisted a doctor examine her. She had become accustomed to the flea bites and lice that common and rich people alike had to deal with. They were worse in the part of town she was in, but thankfully her house was mouse and rat free.

She was walking home from the market when she noticed some thugs walking toward her. She moved down a different street and moved at her normal pace. She had no idea they were still trailing her until her basket was grabbed and her free arm twisted behind her almost painfully.

She gasped and whimpered. The thug looked at her. "Well, well, someone has been here all ready. Shame. Oh well. Won't be my bastard in there then." He said tossing her into an alley. She stumbled and fell hard to her hands and knees.

She looked up and the man hit her face stunning her. His buddies grabbed her arms and another grabbed her ankle. The thug leaned over her and touched her as she struggled. "It won't hurt if you just be still." He said.

He kissed her savagely and she tried to throw him off in a sudden panic. She could not have this happen again and this time with people she did not know. She already hated herself enough. She sobbed and the man slapped her.

"Shut it, bitch!" He growled moving her skirts up.

Suddenly he pitched to the side as a stain spread over his chest. She blinked stunned as the men holding her dropped her and tried to run, but the screamed as a sword cut into them, killing them. A face appeared over her.

It was a narrow face with quick eyes. The man was in yellow, orange, and brown clothing. His cowl was drawn over his head. He watched her a moment. "Are you well?" He asked softly. "Are you hurt?"

"I…" He looked her over and noted her condition. This was hardly the place for a woman who was pregnant and nearly raped.

He gently lifted her in his arms and nodded to the men with him as the made their way back to the La Volpe Addormentata or Sleeping Fox tavern and Inn. He laid her in a room that he saved for his friends and allies. She had lost consciousness along the way and he sent a thief to find a doctor.

Niccoló Machiavelli entered the room as La Volpe tender pressed a cloth to the girl's lip and head. "What happened to this poor child?" He asked.

"She was on the streets and some of the off duty guards wanted to sport with her." Volpe said shaking his head. He more grime he wiped from her face, the more he realized she was a lot younger than he thought. She had a couple of months of grim on her face. Once washed away she was actually beautiful despite the bruising that was spreading.

"Did they...?" Niccoló asked.

"No. I got to her in time." The thief leader sighed and looked down at her under the sheet. "But she does carry a child."

"So young to know such horrors of the world."

Niccoló lifted her small hand in his. "Her hands are dirty, but there are no marks of labor. She was not born to the streets."

"Courtesan?"

"No. She wears no make-up." He looked at the bruising on her body that was nearly faded along with the new. "She has suffered much in her life."

Volpe nodded. "Can you stay with her?"

"Of course friend."

The doctor came and Niccoló was seated at the girl's bedside. The doctor looked her over and bound her hurts. He looked up at the man near her. "Where did you find her?"

"She was found being attacked."

"She had suffered much in her life. The child will be coming within the month." He said.

Niccoló nodded and paid the doctor for his trouble.

ZzZ

The girl woke and whimpered.

Niccoló gently lifted a cup to her lips and lifted her head with his hand. "Drink, child." He said gently. "You have been unconscious for three days now. I was starting to worry for you."

"Who…where?"

"In time my dear." He said. "What is your name?"

"Melodie..." She said softly. It was her middle name. She could not say her real name lest this man know her and turn her over to her brute of a husband again.

He nodded. "You are safe here." He looked about. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes, sir." She said softly.

"My name is Niccoló child."

She nodded. "A pleasure." She said.

"Likewise, my dear."

Food was brought for her. Thick broth soup with meat and vegetables. Hearty and rustic. She tried to sit up eagerly, but Niccoló held up his hand and gently put a pillow behind her head lifting it. He then sat down beside her and lifted the spoon.

She took the mouthful and sighed in pleasure.

Niccoló continued to feed her. She was drowsy again and he gently eased her back to sleep again. He touched her younger face gently. So young.

ZzZ

The girl recovered well.

La Volpe, her host had been there often and he kept her safe. He told her to stay above the main floor. He would appear from nowhere when she stood on the balcony looking out over Rome. He really was a Fox.

The man knew much also, but he had no idea who she was and it seemed to bother him. Even so, he made sure she was well looked after.

She was walking in the upstairs part of the inn when she looked down at the people below. Her belly led her everywhere she went now. Several Courtesans were dancing on the wooden tables, the smell of pipe smoke, opium, and beer filled her nostrils.

She walked to the stairs, but the cloaked Volpe came to her. "Hello, my dear. Are you well?"

"Yes, thank you." She smiled. She caressed the swell of her belly and he noticed her turn away awkwardly.

"Are you in labor?"

"No, not yet, but it will be soon." She said. "I feel…off." She said.

He nodded and waved one of his thieves over. The thief dipped his head toward Volpe and at a few whispered words, looked at Melodie, and nodded. He turned and left. Volpe had a courtesan he believed was also with child and since the girl was acting different, he decided to have the doctor come. He could see to the other ladies as well while here.

ZzZ

The doctor arrived and confirmed the courtesan, Libby, was carrying a child. She was put on "light-duty" by Volpe, putting her as a waitress and barmaid. It would keep her safe and Volpe himself and the other thieves would make sure she went unmolested.

By the time he came to see Melodie, she was in labor. She was holding her stomach and gasping.

The doctor came to her. Midwives were hard to find in the areas of less repute in Rome and the doctor was one La Volpe trusted.

It took some hours, but a beautiful little girl with dark hair was born. Melodie forgot her hatred for her former spouse almost instantly when the doctor placed the baby on her breast. She was so perfect. After mother and child were washed and the linens changed, La Volpe and Niccoló, who had returned, entered the room.

La Volpe offered his congratulations and looked down at the tiny baby who was still tired enough not to wail or need to eat. He smiled. "May I hold her?"

"Of course." The girl said. She handed him the baby which he took and held gently in his hands rocking slightly to keep her drowsy.

Niccoló stepped forward. "You never stuck me as the family man type, Volpe."

"No, but there are plenty of children whom I foster to become my thieves." Volpe said.

Niccoló shook his head. "How are you Melodie?"

"Well. Thank you. Tired."

"Rest, child." Volpe told her.

"What do you call her?" Niccoló asked looking at the baby.

"I have not thought of a name."

Niccoló nodded. "Nelli." He said with a smile.

"Nelli?" Volpe asked.

Melodie yawned. "I like it."

Niccoló chuckled and looked at the dark haired newborn. "Nelli it is, little one."


	4. Niccolò di Bernardo dei Machiavelli

The Secret Borgia – Chapter 4 – Niccolò di Bernardo dei Machiavelli

Gabrielle left her daughter in the care of the thieves of La Volpe's guild.

She needed to find a way to provide for herself and her new daughter. La Volpe had given her shelter, but she needed to repay him. Once she had healed from the birth and been churched by the local priest who was used to administering to the poor, the prostitutes, and the thieves of the area, she was able to be about again.

Her daughter was strong and grew well on goat's milk since Gabrielle soon could not make enough milk for her. The doctor whom often came to the Sleeping Fox to treat the courtesans bound her breasts tight, so tight it was hard for her to breathe, but it would prevent the milk flow in a few days.

She sighed and sat on a corner to beg. She made some money, but not nearly what she needed to pay room and board for the time she had been with La Volpe when he could have rented the room. She sighed and rose to her feet. It was getting to be nearly dark.

She started to walk back when a man came to her. "How much?" He asked her.

He was clearly drunk, but he looked over her. She lifted her head knowing what he meant. She swallowed. "I am not a…"

"Look at you. Of course you are. This is no place for a lady. Come then. How much?" He opened his wallet and produced several coins. She swallowed and nodded.

He led the way to an alley. He seemed in too much of a hurry that he did not even notice he was not inside her as he began to move, pressing her against the wall. He was between her legs. His breath was foul, but she closed her eyes and within moments he slumped against her for a few moments.

"Thank you, lass. Well worth it. Saves me having get my wife pregnant again." He chuckled and tossed her the coins.

She stood a moment holding them as she let her skirts fall down again. How had she, a duchess, become a street whore? She took a breath and walked on unsteady legs back toward the inn. She had to support her daughter somehow.

She continued and a man suddenly appeared before her. "Oh, no you don't my honey."

"What?" She asked.

"If you are going to be fuckin' men in this part of town you need to pay a landlord fee." He looked at her. "Either that or find work in the brothels, but the madams take a higher cut. I only take 20%."

She tried to get by him and he shoved her against the wall, hard. "Either you pay me or I take your little finger as a reminder."

"Let me go!"

"Not until you have paid me." He looked her up and down. "But perhaps if you were to get on your pretty knees and suck my thick cock into those pretty lips, I could forget your rent this month." He said eyeing her.

"Please…I need to feed my baby. I am not a whore!"

"Oh, so that was not you with the drunk man's cock between your legs ten minutes ago."

She tried to spit on him and he slapped her.

"Last chance, pretty one. I do not want to mess up that face of yours. You could really make me a fortune." He wrapped his fingers around her throat and squeezed a little as he leaned close. "I am so hard for you right now, bella, all you need do is lick once or twice and I would finish." He looked at her. He squeezed harder and she struggled, a hand on his wrists trying to dislodge him as her face started to turn red.

"Please…"

"Then I suggest you allow the pretty lady go before I have you arrested pimp." A voice hissed to their left.

Gabrielle gasped and fell to her knees as the pimp found himself face to face with a sword in the hands of Niccoló Machiavelli. Gabrielle coughed so hard she was nearly throwing up what little was in her stomach.

The pimp ran and Niccoló sheathed his sword and knelt down, his hand on her back as she gained her breath back. "Slowly, piccina." He said softly. He rubbed her back until she sat up looking at him.

"Where did…?"

"Hush. Come with me. We need to get you off the streets." He gently helped her to her feet and held her steady until she pushed him back weakly.

"I can manage to the Sleeping Fox."

"No, you are coming with me." He said. "My home is a street over."

His insistence made her gave her pause, but she followed the young man who was not that much older than she was through and archway and to a courtyard. He opened the door of one of the townhouses and nodded for her to enter.

She followed him into the home and looked about as he eyes adjusted. He closed the door and locked it.

"Come, my dear. Would you care for tea?" He asked. "My housekeeper makes a delightful scone."

"If it isn't too much trouble." She looked at him. "But Niccoló, you are too kind. I need to go to Nelli. Isabelle and Andrea will need to go to work soon for Volpe and they have watched her all day."

"I will send for her. You are staying here tonight, my dear."

She followed him as he walked, hands behind his back, to a sitting area. Her red auburn hair looked darker in the light and he lit a candle to give them more light as he then set about stirring the fire. He called out then. "Lucia!" He barked.

A small woman appeared. She wore the simple and functional clothing of a house servant. "Yes, Messer Niccoló?"

"Tea and scones, if you please. Thank you." He said without looking up and setting more logs in. Soon the fire caught the fat wood and the chill of the room lessoned.

Niccoló rose to his feet dusting himself off and looked at her. She was looking at his tomes around the room and he smiled as she lifted one. "Aristotle." She said and opened the thick cover. Niccoló arched an eyebrow. So the girl was literate. Definitely not of the street slums and she knew classic authors of philosophy. That suggested more than a normal female education. He narrowed his eyes as he thought about that. She was able to paint a mask on her face and pretend she was a nobody, but in fact she was a cipher. On one side she was highly educated, but on the other she seemed to try to play as though she knew nothing. Also she had no street-smarts, but could navigate a book by a Greek philosopher like he was standing before her.

He walked to her. "Enough!" He said. He snapped the book closed causing her to jump and look at him. He leaned down, spearing her with his dark brown eyes. "What are you playing at? Who are you?" He asked.

"Melodie."

"You are lying." He said watching her. "No girl of the streets could possibly read let alone know enough to understand Aristotelian philosophy."

"Niccoló?" She looked panicked. She had been caught. She looked on the verge of running and in tears. She looked more frightened now than she had been of the pimp choking her. Why? What did she have to hide?

He took a breath and then knelt beside her taking her hand. "I cannot protect you if I do not have something as basic as your name, tesora." He caressed the knuckles.

"I can't. I am a danger to you if I say."

He looked at her, a hand reaching to brush her hair back. "Some things are worth risk, dear one."

"I…" She swallowed. "I am a danger to any who befriend me now." She looked at him, her sea-green eyes searching his. "I am Gabrielle Borgia."

His eyes widened at that. "Duchessa." He said suddenly in amazement.

She looked down. "I must disappear. I cannot put you in danger."

He lifted a hand to her cheek. "We are all in danger with the Borgia in power." He looked at her face. "There is a way I can protect you and keep you safe."

"How?" She asked.

He let his thumb stroke the high cheekbone a moment. "Marry me."

"What?!" She gasped. "You call that a proposal?"

"Your marriage to Cesare happened between two men who only were interested in economics. This is your decision, but it will give you a name, money, influence, and safety. You have none of that right now. Yes, it is a political arrangement, but, you will benefit."

She took a breath. The man was actually willing to marry her to protect her. He wanted nothing in return. She shivered. "What of Nelli?"

"I will adopt her naturally. She need never know she is not a daughter of my making."

She swallowed. It was too good not to take him up on it. He was sincere, she could tell by the look on his face. Those dark eyes were full of concern and she knew she could not say no. She had to think of her daughter and herself. This man would be her salvation.

"But I am a whore…" she tried to find something that may make him stop in disgust.

He, however, knew she was trying to free him from this by laying out her sins and he shook his head. "Survival does not make you a whore, Gabrielle. It makes you a mother desperate to do anything for her daughter." He cocked his head. "And with me as your husband, she will never be wanting and nor will you."

She swallowed and closed her eyes. "I accept." She said softly.

The tea came in and he smiled at her. "Good." He lifted his stoneware cup up. "To us, tesora."

She lifted her own tea and bowed her head as she clinked her cup to his. "To us, husband."

ZzZ

True to his word, Niccoló did not back out of the deal.

He had sent her to bed two days ago, to his bed, while he spent the night on the couch downstairs. He had sent his housekeeper to fetch Volpe and the baby Nelli to him. Volpe had been surprised by the suit, but agreed to stand in as her father to give her away.

When asked how they would marry her while she was still married, Niccoló commented there had been a papal bull that annulled Cesare from his marriage of his disappeared spouse, allowing him to remarry for more influence. He was already engaged to a French duchess. It affectively made Nelli a bastard, but given that she was now free, Gabrielle did not care.

Gabrielle looked about. Today she would be a new woman. She became Niccoló Machiavelli's wife.

Niccoló had his housekeeper see to her hair and other things. Niccoló was indulgent and allowed her to wear a beautiful dress she found and to have flowers.

No one spoke of love.

The ceremony was quick and Volpe stood in as witness as did two of Niccoló's friends, Bartolomeo d'Alviano and his new wife, Pantasilea Baglioni stood in as witnesses. Volpe gave Gabrielle away, claiming she was his daughter. The priest accepted this, but eyed the small infant in the girl's arms.

Niccoló caught the look from the priest and smiled. "My dear fellow, I took much time in charming a young girl to help my raise the baby I fathered." He said. He well knew that women who were looked at as whores by the church for having babes out of wedlock, but men were accepted.

Gabrielle looked stunned, but the priest nodded accepting this and married them in a quick ceremony. It was then, as Gabrielle placed the band on her husband's left ring finger that she noticed the burn mark there. She looked up at him and he pursed his lips at her to keep her silent.

He placed her ring on her finger, vowing to honor and cherish her. He would do so. He would not require her to do anything other than be happy and be a good mother to their daughter, Nelli.

The priest blessed them and he bent and kissed her lightly on the mouth, sealing her to him.

Volpe laughed and clapped as did Bartolomeo. The great man looked such the opposite of his petite wife. The large man swept Gabrielle into his arms and kissed her cheeks. His fierce hug cracked every bone in her spine and for a moment she went limp from the feeling of bliss. He laughed and set her upright.

Volpe had them all join him at the Sleeping Fox for drinks and food. Niccoló lifted Nelli from his new wife's arms and smiled at her as they all moved to the Sleeping Fox nearby to celebrate the happy union of Machiavelli and his new wife.

The start of a new beginning for them all.


	5. The Assassins

The Secret Borgia – Chapter 5 – The Assassins

Gabrielle sighed.

Though she was always in danger, she felt more at ease as the wife of Machiavelli. They were both young, both under twenty when they had married and now, Niccoló was twenty-one to her now eighteen years. She had lived some of the happiest years of her life in Niccoló's care.

Her first marriage had sold her body for help in a claim to a throne and the favor of the Borgia family. Her second marriage was about her growing into a woman and learning what love truly was. She loved Niccoló. She could admit it. She never loved Cesare, ever, but Niccoló was kind and thoughtful. She imagined him as a lover.

She was no longer chattel and had influence in her husband's household. Niccoló smiled when she had stood up to him once and kissed her almost breathless when she tried to apologize for it. It was the first time he had ever been passionate with her and seemed to be the last, at least for now.

He would not touch her beyond soft kisses goodnight and tender kisses to wake her in the morning. He never once asked her to join him in his bed, and in fact, made a point of not asking her. Nelli was now a toddler and he had hired a nursemaid to care for her and to keep her out of trouble.

She had wondered why had done this before he sat her down in his study for some tea and some of the scones their housekeeper was known for. She took her cup he poured for her and watched him. The months had turned chilly and she wore gloves and as her husband thought in amusement, wore leggings under her skirts that would scandalize most of the females of her peers.

"It is time for you to have a more active role, I feel, in what I do, my dear."

"More active role?"

"Pantasilea Baglioni has asked for you. She thinks you are of the right mind to help her."

The wife of the mercenary general was a brilliant strategist and had made a plan with Machiavelli as he found targets within the city. He would send pigeons to her to have contracts put out for their deaths. Ezio Auditore, new friend of the assassins had been taking the marks and removing the blight, one step at a time. It would take time to explain to Niccoló's wife, however.

"I do not understand. What am I helping her with, Niccoló?"

He looked across the desk at the woman he had married and now was rapidly falling in love with, but was not the best at expressing it. She had gone from being a young woman that was flowering into womanhood when he had taken her to wife, to now, beautiful woman, in a red dress with a wooden olivewood cross he had gotten from a trader from the Holy Land. Her dress was trimmed with gold thread and on her brow set a circlet of small pearls. She looked every bit a high borne woman, which is what he wanted. She could blend into society better. By now many who had known her, had forgotten her, thinking no doubt, which she had run away to France or England with the noble whom had stolen her heart. He had heard the rumors she had been spotted in the court of the English king.

"That is a bit of a tale I am afraid. I will start at the beginning, then, tesora." He smiled. "I and my brothers and sisters are fighting in a war that has gone on for the better part of a millennia." He smiled a little as she sat back. "On the one hand you have us, the assassins, and the other the Templars. The codex speaks of a prophet whom will come." He smiled at her. "We look for this profit and he is supposed to likely appear in Venice. However, first we must rally our forces." He leaned forward. "The lady Pantasilea Baglioni lives there in the barracks with her husband. Would you live with me there for a time?"

She could not believe he was actually asking her to join him. Her husband had often left her on various occasions and she had passed off his work off as being needed elsewhere. As it was he was an assassin she had learned. She knit her brows trying to digest it all, but nodded. "I would follow you anywhere, Niccoló. I want to be of use."

He rose to his feet and cupped her chin softly. "You are of use. All you have told me of the Borgias was of use." He took her hand. "Come then."

ZzZ

A week later, Gabrielle was standing before a great barracks on the outskirts of Rome.

Her husband had made arrangements to have Nelli and the nursemaid, Hannah, stay within the Sleeping Fox under the protection of Volpe. They would return soon enough, but the assassins were being spread thin fighting both the French invaders and the Borgia.

Caserma di Alviano was to be their home for a time. Niccoló expected to be there less than a week before they would reclaim the toddler. Nelli loved her aunts in the brothel part of Sleeping Fox and the courtesans loved spending time with her. Though Niccoló knew was not the best place for a child to grow and learn, it was better than endangering her in the open.

He was actively trying to find a new headquarters for the assassins as well. Bartolomeo, he had been told may have had a solution.

Gabrielle had listened to her husband speaking of the history of the assassins. To his surprise, she had listened with full attention to the words. She had asked questions and he had answered. She was seemed to take the intrigue in stride and he knew it was second nature being born into the royal family.

Now looking up at the barracks she took a breath as her husband stood beside her. "Come, they are expecting us." He told her.

She nodded and walked at his side. He opened the door and she stepped in and was almost immediately lifted into the air by the burly man known as Bartolomeo when he spotted her. She yelped in surprise and found herself unable to move as he held her around her middle, arms locked to her sides, and looking into his grinning face. He growled playfully swinging her around like a ragdoll. He kissed her cheeks speaking to her in hushed tones. He had come to their home a fair amount to speak to Niccoló and she had become accustomed to him bear-hugging her to the point she could not breathe.

Pantasilea walked into the room. "Bartolomeo!" She barked. "Let the poor woman have some air!"

He looked at the girl was limp in his arms watching him. He stopped spinning her around and sighed. "She is fine. Look." He set her down. "I didn't hurt her. Stop looking at me like I am a horrible bastard." He said eyeing his wife who was standing hands on hips looking at him.

Machiavelli just watched tolerantly.

When his wife was set on her feet she took a deep breath as though to make sure no ribs were cracked. The other woman smiled at her. "Well now that you have greeted my husband, Gabrielle, would you come with me for a few moments?"

"Of course." Gabrielle nodded to Niccoló who smiled at her.

Pantasilea led the girl to the stair way and up to the upper level speaking quietly to the younger woman.

"You have a beautiful girl, Niccoló, guard her well." He then grinned watching the women walk out of sight. "And fuck her often."

"Yes." Niccoló said.

"Tell me, is your life less lonely now that you have that pretty creature warming your bed?"

Niccoló rolled his eyes. Bartolomeo was nothing if not blunt and had the mouth that would put most sailors to shame. "You are going to be a terrible influence on my wife's vocabulary."

"Oh hell, she will be fine. She will likely surprise you how much she learned from the cunning bastard friend of ours."

Niccoló winced. "Go to hell, my friend."

"Gladly, when my time is right. Come we watch a fight."

Niccoló sighed and followed the burly man down the stairs looking up at the balcony where Gabrielle and Pantasilea were speaking in the quiet ways of women. Pantasilea was quite the woman and she had a mind for strategy, something her husband lacked. However, she was a slight woman and so lacked his brawn. They were well matched. If the lady could teach his wife how to use strategy, Gabrielle would be of great use to them. Perhaps she even still had friends she could use.

After the third match Niccoló was bored and rose to his feet. "I must see to my wife."

"Are you a lover or at fighter, Machiavelli?"

"A philosopher, but for now, I suppose, a lover." He chuckled a little.

"Fuck her well then and I will see you in the morning." He grinned up at his fellow assassin. "I will be up to make Pantasilea scream soon. I will let you have a head start." He said with a wink. Niccoló just shook his head and left the arena.

ZzZ

Machiavelli came upstairs where Pantasilea had made them up a room. Gabrielle was already there. She was brushing her long red auburn hair that now looked like molten copper in the light from the fire. He had not realized he had been below well past dark.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Husband." She greeted with a soft smile.

He stepped to the bed and began to dress. She smiled watching him a moment. They were to share a room and she turned away as he pulled off his shirt to give him some privacy. He looked at her combing out her long hair, eyes closed, softly humming.

He walked to her and stooped. He pressed his mouth to hers, surprising her, but she smiled up at him, eyes opening to look into his. He said nothing, but pulled her to her feet, one arm wrapping around her waist while the other went to cradle her head as he kissed her jawline.

"Niccoló?" she whispered in pleasure.

"Shhhh." He cooed as he moved to her ear. "We are married and it high time we start acting like it." He murmured his hands going to her dress. He loosened the ties and her dress fell to the earth. His hands made short work of her petticoats and she shivered.

She had never been naked before with her husband and she wrapped her willowy arms about her and turned from him in sudden embarrassment. He shook his head and pressed a kiss to her neck, his hands moving, one to her breast, which were young, firm, and full, and the other moved down and pressed flat to the thatch of hair between her legs.

"You are beautiful." He whispered to her standing back enough that he could look at the curves of her hip and buttock before him.

She shivered and closed her eyes. Though Niccoló had never given her cause to fear him. She still shook nervously and he turned her back to him. He cupped her chin and made her look at him. "Tesora?" He said gently.

"I…"

He kissed her. "I am not him."

"I know…I just…I never…"

He understood then and he pulled her into a hug. "I will never hurt you. Do you understand me? If you do not wish me to continue, I will not."

She knew it. He would not push her unless she wished this. Tentatively she leaned up and kissed him. "I love you, Niccoló. I trust you. Help me learn about love." She whispered.

He looked at her his dark eyes searching her face. He nuzzled her and kissed her walking her backwards to the bed. Her legs hit it and she sat down as he stepped back to finish removing his own clothing. She watched, appreciatively, and then as he stepped closer she reached down and took his member in his small hands.

He gasped, startled and as she moved to pleasure him, he gripped her shoulders to stop her. "No." She shook his head. Was this all she had known? To please the man and the man take from her? No wonder she did know about love.

"But…" she let him go and looked up unsure. Had she offended him? He looked cross, though in truth he was trying to gain back his control.

"Gabby." He smiled at the nickname. "You are not my whore. You are my wife. It is my duty to please you." He pressed her back onto the bed. She went and he covered her body with his own. He caressed her softly and kissed her.

He used gentle tricks to wed her to him and when he finally entered her body, she gasped in pleasure and looked up at him startled by his gentle way. So this was what it was to have love made to you. Not to have pleasure taken, but to have pleasure given and exchanged.

It was at that moment she realized how much she loved this man and as she surrendered herself to the feelings she felt she looked up at his dark eyes as he moved gently above her. "I love you." She whispered. She then gasped and her body clenched on him. She whimpered at how hard her orgasm hit. She had never felt so loved or powerful.

"I love you too." He told her as he watched the girl's pleasure wash over her. It was the most erotic thing he had ever seen and he felt his own release spurt into her as he arched his back with a grunt. He collapsed on her for a moment, but then he pulled off to keep from smothering her. He kissed her nose as she looked up at him in wonder at the sensations she felt.

"Thank you." She whispered.

"For what, Tesora?" He asked gently moving her hair from her face as he looked down at her. The tender look made her understand love now.

"For helping me feel again."

He rolled to the side and gathered her to him. He kissed her brow. "Thank you for your love and your virtue. It makes me complete."

Together they fell asleep.


	6. Ezio Auditore

The Secret Borgia – Chapter 6 – Ezio Auditore

Three months had past.

Gabrielle or Gabby as both Machiavelli and Bartolomeo had started to call her lived well with the mercenaries. Her husband had returned to Rome. Nelli was living with her nursemaids and training at the knee of Volpe. Though the thief leader was starting to not trust Niccoló as much as he trusted Gabrielle, he kept his peace and kept their daughter safe from harm as well as her nursemaid.

Niccoló had taught his wife his short hand and while he was spying in Roma, Gabrielle was helping him by organizing with Pantasilea. The pair of them had become good friends with Claudia Auditore who had come to visit them. She was the head of the most popular brothel in Roma and had come with information about the French.

The women took it stride, but Bartolomeo was angry and left angrily. The women spoke, with calm heads and developed a plan. Claudia told them her brother, the assassin Ezio Auditore, was looking for information and would likely come soon. Though she was a little out of sorts with her brother, whom she regarded as a bit of a bully, she still loved him.

It had been two weeks since Gabrielle had seen her husband. She had seen her daughter because she had come to visit Volpe, who welcomed her, especially with it being just her alone. He was starting to doubt her husband's loyalties, but he kept it to himself as he watched the girl was starting to think of as a daughter rush to the little girl playing on the upper floor in Volpe's own rooms with some wooden toys he had carved for her. Having no family of his own, he had adopted the girl and even taught her the skills when she came to visit, honing the skills he had already taught her to be on the streets. Many of his thieves did not know she was not his daughter and the baby she came to see had Volpe's narrow features so it was just assumed the master thief was raising his grandchild. Few knew who she was other than what they supposed, but those who did know, knew well enough to keep quiet about it.

Gabrielle and Pantasilea were learning knife play from some of the mercenaries under the command of Bartolomeo. The general did not want to see the women he cared for become stabbed to death by a weapon that they did not know how to use.

In close combat, Gabrielle was clearly the winner. Pantasilea preferred to slice them down and watch them bleed while Gabrielle would leap at them and drive her dagger toward the heart, catching off guard. Bartolomeo had his mercenaries teach them well. Women could still die from blades and he refused to allow that to happen to women in his care.

The girls had gone to check the eggs from the chickens and pigeon notes. Gabrielle had become accustomed to life there, though she missed her husband's quiet yet bold nature. She also secretly missed his lovemaking which made her feel truly loved.

It made it worse, she thought ruefully, with her hosts being a couple doors down and the pair were louder than most men in a brothel, though, even Gabrielle had to admit she heard very little of Pantasilea's voice in it.

They both heard a knock at the door as they set the eggs in the kitchen. Pantasilea smiled and handed her young friend a note from Machiavelli. The girl sat on the bench tucking her legs up to read the intimate snippet her husband had sent her.

She looked up at her friend. "He wants me to join him." She said.

"Where?"

"On an island in the Tiber."

The older woman smiled. "He misses you."

"Pantasilea! Pantasilea!" Came a bellow from upstairs.

The pair looked at each other and walked up the stairs.

"Where is she?"

"Did you look behind the table?" A man asked as he stood near the door. His tone was sarcastic and Bartolomeo turned to glare at him.

Pantasilea and Gabrielle stepped into view. The stranger looked them over. The elder was in her late twenties in a dress that was pretty, modest, and tasteful. Her face framed by blonde hair, was oval, her nose tip-tilted like a flower, her lips were generous and humorous. Her eyes held intelligence and were a deep brown which seemed to be welcoming to you, but also were mysterious and seemed to hold something of herself. She was tall for a woman, coming to Bartolomeo's shoulder, but slender, with quite wide shoulders and rather narrow hips, long slim arms, and shapely legs.

The younger of the pair looked Spanish, with her thick red brown hair in a thick braid, watchful eyes, beautiful face, and pert lips. Of the pair Ezio would have chosen her to bed as a mistress and the elder as a wife. She wore a dress of red that fit her form well. She was shorter, thinner shouldered, but no less interesting as she stood with the elder watching, and perhaps learning from her example for she was at least a few years younger.

"Ah here she is!" Bartolomeo grinned.

"I'm Ezio Auditore."

"Lieta di consoscervi." Pantasilea said with a smile.

"Charmed, truly." Ezio said lifting her hand to his lips and kissing the knuckles. He let her hand go and lifted the hand of the girl as he turned his attention to her. "And you are?" He kissed her knuckles softly watching her over them.

The girl looked at him. Ezio was rumored to be handsome and he was in his assassin robes of white that made him look imposing. He was about half a head short than Bartolomeo and not as broad in the shoulders, but he was handsome under his hood as he regarded her.

"Gabrielle dei Machiavelli."

"I had no idea Niccoló had such a beautiful sister."

The girl smiled and Bartolomeo looped his arms around her thin shoulders and chuckled. "No, Ezio, she is the old rogue's wife."

"He is married?" Ezio was startled. She was lovely and he wondered how she had managed to become close enough to the mysterious man to wed him. There was something this girl. He could see it in her eyes. There a deep secret.

"There is much, even his friends seem to not know about him." She said.

"Come, Gabrielle. We will have time to meet properly on another occasion." Pantasilea said with air of a woman not leaving the men to their business, but business of her own.

"Stay a little, tesora mia." Bartolomeo said smiling.

"No, Barto, you know I have to see the clerk. He always manages to bungle the accounts somehow. And there is something wrong with the water supply. I must see to that as well." She smiled and turned to Ezio. "Ora, mi scusi, ma…"

"Con piacere." He said lifting a hand.

The pair disappeared. Ezio watched them go. "Machiavelli is full of surprises."

"Indeed, but he loves her. The pair of women have helped us immensely."

Ezio noticed the calming effect the women had on Bartolomeo. Pantasilea seemed to calm him and indeed had calmed his swearing down. Ezio doubted the women heard much of his barrack barks and swearing.

"Now we talk about war."

"How goes the fight against the French?"

"Bene. My men are holding their own."

"Machiavelli seemed to think things were…more difficult."

Bartolomeo shrugged. "Well, you know Machiavelli. He - …"

They were interrupted by the arrival of one of Bartolomeo's sergeants. Pantasilea was at his side, but there was no sign of Gabrielle. The man was nearly in a panic, but the woman beside him was calm.

"Capitano!" the sergeant said urgently. "We need your help now! The Borgia have launched an attack."

"What? I hadn't expected that so soon! Excuse me, Ezio." He looked up at his wife who was already walking into the room carrying Bianca, the great man's great sword. "Throw me, Bianca!"

She immediately tossed the great sword to him, and buckling it on, Bartolomeo hurled himself from the room, following his sergeant. Ezio moved to follow, but a thin hand held him back, grasping his arm firmly.

"Wait!" She said softly.

"What is it?" He asked turning to her.

She looked deeply concerned. "Ezio, let me get straight to the point. The fight is not going well. We fight French on one front and Borgia on the other. We've been attacked on both sides. But know this: the Borgia position is weak. If we can defeat them, we can concentrate our forces on the French front. Taking the tower on the small island in the river will help. If someone could get around the back and…"

Ezio inclined his head. "I think I know a way I can help. Thank you for sharing this with me Madonna d'Alviano."

She smiled. "It is the least a wife can do to help her husband."

He nodded regarding her before turning to go.

ZzZ

Outside was chaos, but he killed all the Borgia he could find and then he spotted the tower. He noted a captain near and Bartolomeo barked that he needed to die before he warned the others.

Ezio chased him down and used his hidden blade to grab him from behind and then stab him through the heart. The man dropped and Ezio turned to the tower.

Fighting his way to the top he managed to ignite it before jumping from the roof into the water below in a leap of faith. He swam to shore and was helped out of the water by Bartolomeo who grinned at him.

"Ezio. We sent those luridi codardi (fucking cowards) running for the hills!" The large man said as they walked into the barracks. Gabrielle and Pantasilea were both standing, with knives in their hands, at their sides, and swords sheathed at their sides. Ezio was impressed.

Ezio smiled at the women who looked up at him with a nod. "Yes, we did."

The women turned to walk away and Ezio watched them leave.

Bartolomeo continued oblivious to the exchange of looks that happened. "Now that the Pope's dogs have fled, I will be able to draw more men to the fight. But first, I want to reinforce our barracks." He led Ezio toward a corner of the courtyard.

Ezio smiled a little looking up. "Who will take care of this?"

Bartolomeo shook his head. "I'm no good with these things. You are the educated one, you approve the plans!"

Ezio nodded. "Va bene (Okay), but in return I need to know Cesare and Rodrigo's every move. Can your men track them for me?"

Bartolomeo chuckled. "Of course!"

Mercenary called out to Bartolomeo. "Gian's fighting downstairs!"

"All ready they are fighting?"

"Their blood is up." Bartolomeo said. "If you are looking to show off, we also have fights. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got money on this match."

Ezio nodded and walked back toward the barrack entrance and found Pantasilea there and Gabrielle dressed for riding. Her thick riding habit covered her other dress and she smiled up at the men.

Pantasilea looked up at him. "Where is Bartolomeo?"

Ezio shrugged. "At the fight downstairs."

Pantasilea sighed. "He has such an aggressive view of the world. However, strategy is equally important." She nodded to a pigeon cope nearby. "Take these carrier pigeons for example: Each one sent from Machiavelli bears the name of an important Templar in Roma. Eliminate them and you will have more of an impact than a battle ever could."

Ezio bowed. "Thank you, Madonn. Can you ask Bartolomeo to come see me at Isola Tiberina with a report about Cesare and Rodrigo's whereabouts?"

Pantasilea dipped her head. "He will be there."

Gabrielle spoke up as Ezio turned. "I wonder if I can impose on you, Ezio."

He looked at her. "Hardly an imposition."

"Could you escort me to my husband. I know he is on Isola Tiberina. He writes to me to join him, but I do not know the way." She said.

"Of course." He smiled.

They walked to the stables. The groom set a mare with a side saddle and he took a normal saddle on a taller gelding. Ezio lifted the young woman up to the seat. She put her leg over the on hold and her other was in the stir-up. She took the reins as he mounted beside her looking at her a moment. Only a noble-born would be so comfortable in such a seat. He watched as she moved to the road.

He followed her and smiled gently as she rode at a gentle pace. They arrived within an hour to a tunnel entrance after giving their horses to a groom nearby. He led the way and help her walk along the slippery path for a time. They emerged at the Hideout, a former building for storage for the Orsini family, a cousin of Bartolomeo who had allowed the assassins to take it over.

Ezio led the way to the armory where he spotted Machiavelli standing holding a small girl in his arms. Ezio blinked, but Gabrielle pushed passed him and went to her husband. Niccoló embraced her, kissed her soundly, and then allowed her to take Nelli from him.

He turned to Ezio. "Thank you for bringing her here. I had been worried."

Ezio smiled. "Of course. I am surprised that you had a wife."

"Few enough know of it. Her father, Bartolomeo, and Pantasilea are some of the few."

"Her father?"

"Volpe." Machiavelli said.

Ezio was stunned. This girl was the lynch pin of the whole group. She was with the thieves through her father, with the assassins with her husband, and best friends with the wife of the mercenary leader. He sighed. He would need to befriend her in order to gain anything. He sighed. He knew somehow she also knew Claudia making the group complete. The Fighter, the Lover, the assassin, and the Thief all knew one woman and he realized, along with himself, she would be the one to hold the assassins together.


End file.
